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Letters in the Attic

By:DeAnna Julie Dodson

1

Annie Dawson stood on the front porch of Grey Gables, forgetting for the moment that she carried a bag of groceries in each arm. The light dusting of early-October snow had melted, and now the day was crisp and clear, the brilliant reds and yellows of the maple trees and the rich green of the white pines vibrant against the aqua sky. Maybe these were exactly the colors she needed for her next crochet project—the colors of Maine in autumn.

The ladies at the Hook and Needle Club had told her weeks ago that she ought to make herself a nice sweater for the cool weather to come.

“Maine’s not like Texas where it stays hot until November sometimes,” Mary Beth had told her.

Annie smiled to think of that now. Just yesterday her daughter, LeeAnn, had mentioned that the temperature was up to 85 degrees in Dallas. But a few weeks ago, back when Mary Beth had made her comment, Annie hadn’t decided if she would still be in Stony Point when the cold weather came, or if she would even need a sweater warm enough for a chilly fall evening in Maine. Now it was October, and she still hadn’t really decided. But she hadn’t left, either.

There was too much yet to be done at Grey Gables. Gram had left her the old house and an attic full of memories and mysteries, too, treasured handwork and precious remembrances from a long life well and thoroughly lived. Having those things properly cared for, seeing them sold or given to those who would truly appreciate them, was a task Gram had entrusted to Annie. As much as she missed her daughter and her twin grandchildren, Annie couldn’t go back to Texas quite yet.

She had to admit, too, that she was enjoying the changing seasons. When she was young, she had visited Gram in the summers. She hadn’t been in Stony Point during harvesttime, and hadn’t seen the changing of the leaves or the coming of the snow. Maybe people who lived up north thought the snow was a nuisance. In her part of Texas, it was a brief and beautiful thing. What would it be like to live in a place where, every winter, it came to stay?

Annie took one last deep breath of the brisk air before going into the house. She headed straight for the kitchen, where she set down the groceries. It was well past noon, and Boots would be clamoring to be fed. Usually she was meowing and rubbing against Annie’s ankles the minute she came home.

“Boots? Here, kitty, kitty. Lunchtime.”

Returning to the entryway, Annie picked up the mail that had been slipped through the slot in the front door and put it on the little table alongside her purse. Back in the kitchen, she poured a bowlful of crunchies. The smell of the dry cat food and the sound of it jingling against the porcelain bowl ought to bring Miss Boots running.

“Come eat, Boots.”

Annie helped herself to a banana from the kitchen counter and then checked her answering machine: three messages.

“Mrs. Dawson, this is Josephine Booth from the library. We received the book you requested and will hold it for you until next Friday. Please stop by at your convenience to pick it up, or let us know if you’re no longer interested in checking it out. Thank you. We hope to see you soon.”

Lovely. She couldn’t wait to dive into the book on restoring old homes that one of Alice’s Divine Décor friends had recommended, and she really wanted to see what else the library had to offer on the subject.

“Mom? I forgot to tell you about the party we’re having for Herb’s birthday next month, just in case you want to … oh, I don’t know … come home for it? Call me.”

Annie shook her head. LeeAnn wasn’t always subtle with her hints about Annie coming back to Texas.

“Hello, Annie. This is Clara Robbins. Just wanted to let you know we’re planning a harvest banquet at the church, and any ideas you’d like to contribute would be very much welcome. Be thinking about it, and I’ll let you know as soon as we have a time set for the planning meeting. Call me if you have questions.”

Annie made a mental note to offer to make some of Gram’s unparalleled berry pies for the occasion. Other than that, she’d volunteer to help however she was able. And she’d see what Alice, her friend since childhood and now her next-door neighbor, had in mind. It would be fun and not a bad way to get better acquainted with more of her neighbors in Stony Point.

She took another bite of the banana and went through the mail. Bills mostly, except for one oversized envelope addressed in a large, careful scrawl to “Grammy.” Smiling, Annie opened it and found two folded sheets of manila paper. One was a drawing of a princess with floor-length yellow curls, a bright pink gown, a tiara, and a sparkling magic wand. It was inscribed “From Joanna.” The other was unsigned, but it had to be from her twin, John. It was a Technicolor dinosaur breathing flames from its nostrils at something that looked like an astronaut. Yes, it was definitely from John.